


Old Wounds

by Khateeah



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Arguing, Broken Bones, Brother Feels, Emotionally Repressed, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Resentment, Sibling Rivalry, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 13:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7534930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khateeah/pseuds/Khateeah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Genji and Hanzo return to Hanamura months after Hanzo is convinced to join Overwatch. Genji wants to heal. Hanzo... doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Wounds

What surprised Genji the most about returning to Hanamura a decade after his ‘death’ wasn’t the emotion he felt, nor the repressed memories that swelled up inside his chest. Instead, what struck him the most was the way that not a single thing about his childhood home had changed. Each rock, each pebble, each accent and decoration remained just where he remembered, as if time had frozen the moment the life he’d known before came to a screaming halt.

It was almost cruel, how he’d looked down at his hands and expected, not for the first time since he’d returned, to see flesh, rather than the mechanized limbs he now possessed. But the cruelest realization of all came when his gaze wandered to Hanzo’s back, bent beneath the weight of his misery where he sat beneath what had been their favorite sakura tree - the realization that what had once been an easy, natural love between them had all but burned away, leaving nothing but blackened and charred ruins in its wake. There was love between them still, of course, but it was marred by grief; agony rooted deep in depths unfathomable. 

He stood in silence for a while, uncertain if Hanzo realized he was being watched. If he did, he made no indication; but then again Genji wouldn’t have expected him to. Where Genji had eagerness, Hanzo had patience in droves. 

Genji hated the silence, the palpable tension in the air so thick he could cut through it with his blade. They couldn’t continue this way; together at last, yet divided still by an unyielding, impassable force. He needed Hanzo, and he knew that whether his brother liked it or not, Hanzo needed him too. 

“ _Anija?_ ” Genji broke the silence, steeling his will and approaching his brother at last.

“Genji.” 

Cold. Closed. Empty. 

Genji sighed and closed the remaining distance between them. Suddenly, he forgot what he’d meant to say. He lowered himself to his seat next to Hanzo; close, but careful to mind his brother’s space. He resented the accommodation. 

“Tell me how to do this, Hanzo.“ 

“What are you talking about?” Hanzo spat without sparing so much as a glance. 

Genji bristled at Hanzo’s terse tone. He should have known this was hopeless. “You know I can’t do this without you. You _know_ that hasn’t changed.” Genji hissed through gritted teeth, biting back the desperation roiling in the pit of his stomach. 

“And what am I supposed to do about that?” Sure as the sunrise, Hanzo’s voice was rising along with his temper. 

Genji’s chin dropped, and his shoulders slumped forward. Tearful eyes fixated on the pebbled ground beneath his folded legs. “…I don’t know,” he answered weakly. 

“Of course you don’t. Why did you come here, then, if not to waste my time?” Each word, sharp and uncaring, cut through Genji like a knife. The cyborg flinched. 

Hanzo heaved an impatient sigh. 

Genji’s head whipped to face his brother. It was his turn to anger. “Can you look at me just once, Hanzo?” The archer made no answer and sat motionless, as if he’d never heard the question. If it weren’t for Genji’s augmented vision, he never would have caught the tiny, fearful tremor that wracked his brother’s form. 

“Hanzo…” 

“ _Shut up!_ ” Hanzo sprang to his feet. On instinct his hand flew to his bow, but halted mid-air just inches from its mark. Genji said nothing. He simply observed; watched with forced detachment the heat of his brother’s anger as it ran its familiar course. Eyes blazing and chest heaving, Hanzo stood his ground even as rage faded to shame, and shame faded to regret.

Genji let the awkward tension rise between them; reveling in its sour tang. Only when Hanzo’s eyes began to flit nervously beneath his creased brow did Genji finally rise to his feet to meet his brother’s gaze. 

“I’m sorry I disturbed your peace, brother.” He spoke in English, and Hanzo narrowed his eyes, fraught with sudden suspicion by his brother’s uncharacteristic deviation in tongues. But before he could speak, Genji had turned his back. 

The moment had passed. Genji was gone. 

“ _Fuck!_ ” Hanzo shouted and swung his fist, smashing with a sick thud against the trunk of the tree under which he stood. He never felt the bones as they buckled and cracked beneath his skin. 

Genji was gone. Genji was gone, and it was his fault. 

Again. 


End file.
